


Such Great Heights

by Winter Hat (Fedora)



Series: Monster Babies [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Children, Bees, Gen, Simon has, blue and orange morality, casual discussion of murder, child avatars of eldritch fear gods, creepy children, implied poor child raising skills, petulant teenagers, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22889992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fedora/pseuds/Winter%20Hat
Summary: The Beholding doesn't have a monopoly on curiosity, and Simon Fairchild would like to know more about this Institute Jurgen Leitner is creating.
Series: Monster Babies [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1473905
Comments: 12
Kudos: 169





	Such Great Heights

**Author's Note:**

> Jon is about 5ish here, and Elias about 16. They have not yet found Martin yet. The order of the stories in the series page should show where it needs to go. :)

As far as Simon Fairchild was concerned the hardest part of a confidence game was making that initial connection with the mark. Most people didn’t want to admit that they were being scammed and would actively ignore evidence that they were. And the blow off, where you took the money and ran, had never been a problem for him; if someone thought you were worse off from the deal they rarely went after you or you could change some physical details in another country. And he had always had the sky as a back up plan for those particularly persistent fools.

Simon had planned carefully to get this tour of Jurgen Leitner’s Institute; his machinations were nothing compared to the Mother of Puppets. But then, they didn’t have to be. He had a recently acquired granddaughter and a recommendation from a psychologist whose copy of the  _ Interpretation of Dreams _ by Sigmund Freud was not quite what had been originally published.

The manor house was magnificent, and the second floor windows were a stand out feature. They looked to be the kind you needed to push up to open and then always ended up hanging halfway out when you needed to close them. He pointed them out to darling Harriet, and the clever girl smiled up at him in that childish way that said she knew the secret. Simon could tell she was going to be very diligent about strengthening her connection to the Falling Titan.

And while the grounds surpassed Simon's expectations, Leitner lived them all down. He was the kind of mark where you had to change countries, names, and hair color, then lay low for a year to complete the blow off. And even then you might have problems. He had swallowed whatever line Gertrude Robinson had fed him so completely that Leitner continued the con on himself.

Simon half wished he’d gotten to Leitner first. He had dreams of a space elevator. You would go from impossibly high off the ground to the black vastness of space with the scant comfort of a pane of glass between you and the rest of the universe. It would be so beautiful, and Leitner had the money to fund it.

Instead he let Leitner show him around his “Institute” and imagined the fun dear Harriet was going to have. He was a bit jealous of her. Leitner certainly wasn’t going to notice a missing assistant or two.

The garden tour ended at a tastefully decorated outdoor seating area. Harriet made a face at it behind Leitner’s back; tasteful but not child friendly. Leitner knew how to display wealth to best effect and didn’t seem to realize that it doesn’t translate into child care expertise. Simon was almost insulted that he needed to pretend to be taken in by the display.

“And here are our students,” Leitner gestured grandly at the three children standing near the horseshoes. The bright plastic of the horseshoes were the only concession to the accident prone nature of children over aesthetics. The boys Simon was expecting from Arthur's gossip, so the girl must be a new addition. They really let just anyone care for children these days.

“Elias is our inaugural student and has been a mentor for the younger two.”

“Hello Mr Fairchild,” the older boy took his hand off the girl’s shoulder to shake. His smile was so pleasantly bland that Simon had to check that Elias’s other hand was on the smaller boy’s shoulder; it’s always the pleasantly bland ones that will stab you in the back at the first opportunity. No wonder Jude had been mildly complimentary of Elias.

“Jonathan here is also my ward due to family issues.” The small boy then did an amazing impression of a child too shy to say hello to a strange adult; as if one of the Beholding’s would let anything stand in the way of a new source of information.

Out of Leitner’s line of sight, Elias passes the girl a white cloth, which she rubs over her hands.

“And Karolina is our newest student.” Karolina wobbled into a curtsey and looked to Elias for approval. Once Simon was able to get a good look at the girl, the sleight of hand with the handkerchief maked sense. Many bound to the Buried did not stay clean, or dry, without constant attention, and he doubted Leitner had the patience for that.

“It’s certainly a relief that my Harriet won’t be the only girl.” Leitner chuckled like he said something funny and not borderline sexist, while the two Beholding boys glared at him. It was actually almost intimidating. Karolina and Harriet appeared to be sizing each other up; it was always so exciting to meet your opposite for the first time.

“Next we have…” Leitner begins before a scream echoes through the garden. It starts quiet then gains strength, like something approaching from a great distance. Simon squeezed Harriet’s shoulder as she shook in anticipation, and Elias pulled the smaller children to himself before they could scamper off.

Leitner snapped around to face the direction of the scream, as if the threat was over there. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

He didn't wait for a response before walking off in a hurry in the direction of the garage.

“I thought he’d never leave,” Simon bent down to give dear Harriet a boop on her little nose. “That was brilliant work, my girl. Very nice touch getting him to scream like that.”

Harriet beamed at him. “Thank you, Grandpa Simon!”

Elias was visibly rearranging his observations into a different conclusion so Jonathan was the one to get the first question out. “What are you?”

There’s a pull to the question that a young one like Harriet or an ordinary human would have found impossible to ignore; Simon decided to indulge the child. “I follow the Falling Titan.”

Jonathan blinked for the first time in Simon’s presence, adorably confused. 

“It’s also known as the Vast,” he explained.

The small Archivist pulled back a little, repeating this new information to himself.

“I think I understand now why Jude was telling everyone that the Beholding has dibs on destroying Jurgen Leitner.”

“So Jude and Agnes got back to their people?” Elias asked. “They’re all right?”

Simon smiled at the older boy. It was so nice to meet one with the Ceaseless Watcher who was concerned with more than his own little plots. “Of course. The hard part was always getting in.”

“What’s a Beholding?”

Simon frowned at the little Archivist, but not unkindly; he knew how hard it can be to contain yourself. “It’s rude to keep asking like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“All’s forgiven. Just remember for next time,” Simon smiled when the boy grinned up at him. “The Beholding is a more formal name for the Ceaseless Watcher or the Eye.”

“So me and Elias…”

“Elias and I,” Elias corrects.

“Elias and  **I** are Beholdings?”

There was no power in the question this time. “Excellent job on the question. And, yes, you and Elias are definitely of the Beholding.”

“Beholding…” Jonathan looked to the garden where Harriet and Karolina were running between the flowers. Simon was impressed; it looked like the short attention span of a small child was going to trump the Beholding’s desire to wring every bit of information from a target.

“Why don’t you go play with the girls, Jon? Maybe Mr Fairchild will have a story for you later.”

“Please, call me Grandpa Simon,” Jon took off running toward the flowers, and Elias frowned at him.

“Grandpa Simon?”

Simon laughed at the boy’s expression. “Why not? I’m more than old enough.”

“Fine. Grandpa Simon. Why are you here? You can’t be scared of a young Vast.”

“I was curious. Your lot doesn’t have a monopoly on curiosity.”

Elias frowned; it was terribly fascinating to watch him process. Did he only focus on hiding information from Leitner? Or was he used to the Archivist just knowing what was needed?

“You said we, that is Jon and I, had ‘dibs’. What does that mean?”

“Good question. After Jude and Agnes returned from their little vacation several members of the Cult of the Lightless Flame wanted to… show Leitner how they felt at his presumption at taking their messiah. Jude was very firm in her assertion that you have the stronger claim.

“I see why you haven’t done anything yet. Especially if Leitner has guardianship of the Archivist?”

“Jon’s grandmother is…”

“Say no more!” Simon held up his hands in a stop motion. “It can be hard when they come to it so young.”

They watched the young children run and yell. It looked a bit like they were playing two different games.

“I think Agnes may have started a trend.”

Elias scoffed. “Jon does it better,” he looked sideways over at Simon. “How did you know he’s the Archivist?”

“Not like you knew, I’m sure. Once you’ve seen something enough…” he sighed. “Jon is not my first Archivist. Gertrude Robinson wasn’t even the first I’ve met. There are signs, and you’re not the only ones who are observant.”

“Ah,” Ellias blushed. “Harriet isn’t really your granddaughter, is she?”

The children’s game really did involve a lot of screaming; if they had been more human Simon would have been worried. “If you mean by, is she the child of a child that I fathered and raised. Then no, we are not related. But she is a child who found her way into the Vast, and I am old enough to be her grandfather.” Simon grinned wickedly. “And there won’t be anyone looking for her.”

“That’s enough?”

“My dear boy, who would tell me no?”

“What if they did?”

“Then that’s what the  stratosphere is for.”

Elias finally grinned. He was a far too serious child. “Or the feeling of always being watched even when you're totally alone?”

“I think you’ve got it.”

The young children weren’t quite playing chase. The Archivist was a hair too far behind for that. Also, it looked like he’d caught something while dear Harriet and Karolina were still running around.

“Elias! Look!”

“I’m terribly sorry for the interruption,” Leitner returned, unruffled. “I trust Elias kept you suitably entertained.”

With an extra look that said or else. The Beholding really did have the most reason to want Leitner crushed. “Oh quite. The boy is smart as a whip. A real credit to his Patron.”

Leitner preened, but Elias smirked. So clever these Beholding types.

“Elias! Look!” Jon ran to them, something carefully cradled in his hands. “Bee holding!”

The Archivist opened his hands and a large fat honey bee flew out. Leitner, who had discreetly put himself in front of Elias, shouted as the bee flew at his face. He began coughing before swallowing heavily. This time he did leave at a run and without a proper goodbye.

“I need another bee.”

Jon pouted and ran back to the girls and the flowers. Elias and Simon very carefully didn’t look at each other.

“He’s made it to the infirmary,” the boy eventually commented.

“That’s very good.”

Elias was the one to finally break down and make eye contact; Simon could have observed the clouds in the light blue sky all afternoon, but the Beholding aligned had their thing with eyes. That was enough that neither could hold in their laughter any longer. Elias was gasping for air with tears running down his face; he collapsed into one of the chic wicker chairs.

Soon the children had to come over to see what was so funny. Jon climbed into the chair with Elias to peer into his face, and Simon pulled himself together enough to tell a story. The little Archivist deserved a treat for getting him to laugh so hard.


End file.
